Friday, August 21, 2009


At the end of July, the young men in our ward went on a "High adventure" trip down to Beaver, Utah. My sixteen year old was excited about the weekend. They left early on the Thursday morning, with SUV's and trailers packed with kids,mountain bikes and camping gear.
The plan was to get to their destination, the drive was about two hours away unload and do the mountain bike adventure, get back to base and then they would go water rafting the following day. Seems like a fun filled weekend. They are a really great group of kids and I was really excited for them all.

The weather was beautiful and Tyler and I were enjoying spending time on our front porch with a few of our neighbours, when we got a call from one of the leaders telling us basically that Stuart had biffed it a couple of hours in to the mountain biking. He was pretty cut up but no broken bones and he was on his way home.

Of course I was thinking the worst, like any Mom would and preparing myself to having to take him to the ER to be stitched up then having to get a plastic surgeon to fix any thing that needed to be fixed after the 500 stitches I figured he would be needing.
I so don't do well with blood and needles, people throwing up or loose teeth, I have to usually sit down as the room starts to spin.
It seemed like a long time until Stuart pulled into the drive way with Brother Cox.
My heart jumped to see him sitting in the front seat, I kept telling myself not to faint, be brave and to definitely not to embarrass the boy or he would never speak to me again. I did hug him, very gently and took a deep breath and surveyed the damage. It was difficult to tell with all the blood and lots of gravel. I wasn't sure if I was happy he wasn't as bad as I had led myself to believe or that I was impressed I was still horizontal and keeping what I had eaten earlier in my stomach.
He was really afraid as to how this was going to play out, he hates needles too and the thought of how his wounds were going to get cleaned had been praying heavily on his mind all the way home.
We got the blood cleaned up so we could see what it was really like and how best take care of Stuart and his wounds, when Stuart asks "I'm I going to have a scar?" "Unanimously both Tyler and I said,"Oh yes". I'm thinking how is he going to react when his next question was "will it be a bigger scar if you take care of it or if I go to the Dr'?"
In my mind there was no doubt he would be OK if we took care of it but I was certain the scar would be bigger when out loud he yells "alright that is cool, how big do you think it will be"


  1. Once again, it shows you that boys want to be touch and scars say "tough" better than anything else. Wonderful story.